


Out of time

by Anonymous



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Horror, Masturbation, Monsters, Spiders, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-21 23:48:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14296101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: A low moan escaped from his lips, electricity gathering on his fingertips as he closed his eyes, welcoming the darkness that blinded him to his childhood room, allowing him to get lost in the blurry memories of his pleasure. His hand began tracing lazy patterns over his stomach, carefully setting aflame the embers that the dream had left behind.Clink. Clink. Clink.ーThe aftermath of a wet dream.





	Out of time

**Author's Note:**

> My entry for the Dark Voltron Zine!
> 
> Hope you enjoy the fuckery i wrote last summer lol

Lance stirred from his sleep with a soft sigh, eyelids dragging— warm and heavy— as he opened them. He swallowed around the dryness of his throat, curling his toes over the sheets as the remnants of a hot, slow dream lingered on the edges of his consciousness.

_Body curving, tensing and tightening as lips dragged over his inner thighs, as hands closed around his trembling hips, forcing them still. There were teeth nipping at the skin where pelvis meet thigh, just shy of his crotch, and he choked on his moans, eyes shutting close as the teeth bit harshly; mean, but good, so good—_

A low moan escaped from his lips, electricity gathering on his fingertips as he closed his eyes, welcoming the darkness that blinded him to his childhood room, allowing him to get lost in the blurry memories of his pleasure. His hand began tracing lazy patterns over his stomach, carefully setting aflame the embers that the dream had left behind.

_Clink. Clink. Clink._

He perked up at the sound, hand stopping and daydream starting to vaporize before he reminded himself— his door was closed. Even when that was the tell-tale chime of his sister’s favourite bracelet, the door was closed. He was safe, away from his family in his own secluded space, in his little fantasy.

His fingers resumed their work, tangling on the curls beneath his navel and tugging lightly there, a soft sound rumbling in his throat as he imagined a ruthless mouth teasing him. A sweet, thunderous shudder wracked through his spine, fingers wrapping around the base of his dick to tighten there, to drag out the feeling of the heat fiercely curling in his belly.

“Yes,” he whispered, thighs clenching as he tugged one, twice, three times at his dick, stroking rhythmically until he was wriggling on his bedsheets, hips thrusting to chase the feeling.

He bit his lower lip, catching the pliable flesh and keeping it there to muffle the moan that threatened to spill when his fingers became anothers, when foreign hands caressed a trail over the back of his thighs. Lance melted against the contact, tilting his head back against the pillow when he felt open-mouthed kisses against the skin beneath his balls. His chest heaved, hips rolling sweetly into the contact, wanting more, more, _more_ —

Lance yelped at the warmth that enveloped his dick, sudden and overwhelming and so, so real he lost himself in the sensation, let himself tremble through the attention, through the fast snap of his hand as he imagined his thighs closing tightly around the head in between his legs.

_Clink. Clink._

His head was swimming, sleepiness tingling his skin like a heavy blanket, making him press harder against the mattress. His wrist twisted, hand tightening in a way that had him gasping, feeling the knots unraveling inside his belly, over and over again. Lance wished his fantasy was clearer, less blurry around the edges, but all he could feel, all that he could notice was the clever tongue collecting precum on its tip, the back of a throat that pressed insistently against the head of his cock.

His hand sped up, belly growing taught with each breath, with each drag of skin against skin. He rolled his head to the side, breathed in the creamy softness of his sheets and buried his other hand on his thigh, leaving lovely indents there. There was something cold pressing against the back of his thigh, but he was too overwhelmed, too busy trying to breathe under the assault of pleasure to notice it.

And, god, how he loved this, how he loved that wet mouth, being so deep inside of it he felt like he was being reborn, how he would love for it to be real. The breath caught inside his lungs, stayed there as he drowned and melted and caught fire because he was there, right there—

_Clink._

Lance gasped, harsh and rough, the sound rasping his throat as he shot up from the bed. Dizziness clawed at his head eagerly, leaving him, with his aching chest, to grasp at the sheets to ground himself. He felt as if he had been washed ashore; disoriented, cold, lost in his own room, in the sharp shapes of it.

Sweat was clinging to his skin, covering the prickling, the unsettling buzzing underneath it. He felt an acute sense of displacement, almost as if his mind was right there and his body was meters away, separated but united in the way heaved breaths teetered towards the beginning of a migraine.

Everything seemed so in focus, so detailed to his tired eyes he couldn’t help but frown, feeling as if he had worn glasses he didn’t even need for a long time. The dizziness was there, the muted pain too, but the blurriness of the night had faced away and he didn’t— he didn’t have words to describe the way the shadowy figures of his furniture came to life.

He closed his eyes tightly, and tightly, and even tighter, colours playing behind his eyelids; a kaleidoscopic show that persisted even when his eyes opened again. The room lit up with his gaze, still strangely in focus, and Lance watched as swirls of darkness fell from ceiling, outlined by the luminescent blue that spilled from the hallway through the open door—

From the _open door._

His breath clogged his throat, and Lance choked on it just as the light blinded him. And it hurt. It hurt as much as feeling breath coating the delicate curve of his back, hurt as much as feeling that wet, steamy breath turn frigid on his skin, stabbing his nerves one by one. He bolted on the bed, dick bobbing against his thigh— still painfully hard— as he turned around so fast dizziness clawed back in again.

And there was… nothing. Nothing that his white stained sight could see, nothing but his trembling shadow, occupying the space he had been in before. Lance pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, chasing away the oppressive tears that blurred the world in front of him. There was nothing to be afraid of, he reminded his quivering heart, the catch of his breath. There was nothing that could harm him at home.

He turned around, hands falling at his sides, to search for the source of light, for the blinding force that had sent him into a panicked reeling. Just as his eyes were adjusting to the darkness— and it was moving, Lance swore it was moving—, the door swung shut so hard it drew a booming sound out of its frame, and a scream out of Lance’s throat.

He crawled backwards hastily, messing the sheets and hitting his back against the wall with enough force to leave himself breathless. His vision swam, lungs constricting at the rash dread that flowed into his chest. The light was just beside him on the bedside table, and he wanted to reach for it so bad his fingers twitched, ached with the need, but the shadows were curling in, closing in, closing in—

_Clink. Clink. Clink._

Hearing the sound felt like being slapped, like being pulled out of the water after almost drowning. The world shifted along with the shadows at the end of his bed, only to stop moving, only for the haze to fall away. Relief tried to fill his chest, calm his breathing, but it froze right where it started at the end of his windpipe when the shadows materialized.

Claws were curled over his sheet, right in front of his trembling feet. They twitched at Lance’s gasp and began crawling towards him slowly, so slowly Lance’s heart got caught in his throat. The bed creaked as it gave way to hands, arms, a blurred head—

He choked on a scream as the shadow crawled all over him, hands scorching as they caressed up his torso, as they pressed against the hollow of his throat. Lance couldn’t move, no matter how hard he tried, and when the creature pushed against his chest he slipped down the wall and onto the sheets like a rag doll.

Red, burning eyes kept him in place, and he stared up into them, body quivering as he saw the darkness around those eyes twirling, resembling spiders that tried to run away. He opened his mouth, but closed it again when a hand pressed against his collarbone ruthlessly. The contact was warm and so familiar he struggled against it for a moment, mere seconds before hands holding onto his hips flashed through his mind. It was just like his fantasy, just like that wet, delicious dream.

The hand pressed harder, sliding up the curve of his neck and travelling against the line of his jaw. In between all that warmth, all that compressed heat he felt coldness, a subtle one that belonged to a golden bracelet, dangling just from the creature’s wrist. Lance’s eyes widened when he realised.

_Clink. Clink._

“Lancey Lance,” the shadow whispered fondly, caressing his cheek with broken claws the colour of rotting teeth. It left spiders wandering on its wake, small little things that tingled his skin as they searched for the best place to dig in.

Lance whimpered, closing his eyes and mouth as he shook his head violently to get rid of them, to make the image of the creature disappear from behind his eyelids. But then there were fingers curling around his dick, so sharply real that he gasped at the contact, opening up so easily it frightened him.

The spiders crawled over the soft skin of his lips, hovering there for a quivering second before dipping in, caressing the back of his teeth with their bodies before settling beneath his tongue. Lance sobbed as the spiders started working, digging in and creating a sticky web that had him grasping the sheets and kicking his legs.

The creature leaned down then, holding him in place with a touch of its claws to the head of his dick— a warning. It licked at the edge of Lance’s lips, tracing the soft curve there before moving to the lower lip, tugging at his dick with warm fingers. Electricity was running beneath Lance’s skin, paralyzing him with a thunderous coldness that he tried to fight, only to feel it wrap inside his chest when the creature opened his mouth over his cheek, letting a bigger spider crawl out from in between its shifting teeth.

And Lance couldn’t look away, couldn’t let his eyes fall shut when the creature was kissing the spider’s body, the hair covering its body and legs— the one that felt like sandpaper on his skin. The shadows moved back a little to kiss the edge of Lance’s jaw just as the spider tapped the edge of his lips with one of its legs.

Lance wanted to beg, wanted to sob just so everything could end, but the fingers squeezed just _right_ and he was gasping for air again, a rumbling sound leaving his throat that only managed to coax the spider to slowly crawl into his mouth. The hand wrapping around his dick sped up, slick sounds echoing through the room as his toes curled, as the spider went deeper, settling some of its legs on his tongue.

“Oh, baby,” the shadow said, amused, eyes burning deep into his core as it caged Lance’s dick with his hand, making it difficult to distinguish the fear from the pleasure. “Don’t be afraid.”

It twisted its wrist, dragging the heel of its palm against the underside of his dick, making Lance yelp, and making the spider tumble deeper inside his mouth, choking him. He felt its legs at the end of his mouth, just where tongue dipped down into the throat and Lance heaved, sudden and violent, feeling a crushing weight against his chest.

He closed his eyes, and sobbed again, feeling the spiders beneath his tongue settling in, feeling the bigger one reaching for the back of his throat and begin to dig there. Its hair tickled Lance’s palate, scratching it whenever the spider moved, back and forth, back and forth, back and—

Lance felt blood trickling down his throat, felt the rawness and the acute throb inside his mouth as the spider teared him apart, as the shadow continued to tug at his dick, trying to coax an orgasm out of him. His belly grew taught with each pump, with every slick image that the creature flashed inside his mind as it cooed, as it begged him to come. And there was fire licking the pit of his stomach, even when he couldn’t breathe, when there was pure ice running through his veins. He was right on the edge of letting go, right at the point where his eyes were rolling to the back of his head, his whole body tightening to welcome a shaky orgasm—

“You wanted me here,” the shadow growled, as the bed dipped from the sides, black hairy spiders drawing into the edges of his limited vision. They loomed over him, enormous and hungry for a moment before leaning down sharply, eager for Lance’s body.

He screamed, coming as he closed his mouth around the spider.

_Clink._

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are suuuuper appreciated!
> 
> You can find me on twitter and tumblr (both @warmybones)


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